


Overtime

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [148]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Getting Together, HYDRA Husbands, M/M, Rival Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29305449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: Brock and Jack have always been rivals.
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [148]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/547894
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	Overtime

It’s not a secret that Brock Rumlow hates Jack Rollins and in turn, Jack hates him back.

They’ve been enemies ever since they were both selected first and second (not respectively, he’s better) overall in the NHL draft and he was sure it was because of some kind of behind the bench crap politics with Rollins’ visa.  _ He _ was a better player. It wasn’t a boast, it was a fact. All the analysts said so, his stats said so, coaches said so. He even told Rollins so because  _ maybe _ he got a little drunk once they were loitering around for hours after being picked, and the words just pushed out from him.

So they share a mutual hatred and it has never ceased to exist between them. Brock is more than fine with it. Actually, he quite enjoys it. There’s prank wars when they have games against each other or attend the same events, prank calls and prank emails when they aren’t in the same city. As long as it’s something to entertain himself with during long calendar periods and over the break, he’s good for all of it.

There’s only one catch though.

Brock is the only one allowed to be the cause of Jack’s eternal misery. He feels it’s cheating when his fellow teammates wanna have some fun and well, he wants to be the only ire of this man’s mood. It’s only fair when it’s solely Jack that has Brock holding a surprising amount of anger inside. Since he’s been playing professionally he’s been in a kind of dry spell and he blames more of that on seeing Jack with various pretty model-looking women fawning for his attention while he feels like he only gets puck bunnies that he would never have an attraction to.

He’s at one of the hundreds of charity parties Brock has to attend for the sake of maintaining a good image as a spokesperson. Weirdly, Jack’s there too. Their jobs are to look good, enhance the room, and sell the clothes they wear. It's not hard, it’s just annoying to see the same problem here, beautiful woman once more approaching Jack. Brock is man enough to admit that Jack’s kind of ridiculously attractive. Maybe if old men would stop trying to lowkey proposition him, (what was he, some kind of twink to them?) then most likely pretty ladies would be hitting him up too.

Right now though, Jack looks awful. Brock knows what the guy looks like when he’s uncomfortable and now’s one of those times, but more. It’s not his usual uncomfortable, it’s a panicked sort of uncomfortable. The woman that’s got him in her grasp is a little older and she smiles wolfishly at him, her hand skimming over the arm of his sports jacket and Brock just feels like he’s seen her before, finally realizing she’s one of those pushy female reporters than give women a bad name in sports.

“Finally!” He’s moving their way before he can process it. “I was fuckin’ wonderin’ when you’d get yer ass inside.” 

Jack startles a little when Brock hooks his arm with his, but when he realizes who has invaded his private space, his eyes narrow suspiciously. Brock’s used to it and takes no offence, trying his best to peer into Jack’s eyes in hopes he can read his mind and get what he’s trying to attempt instead. Jack doesn’t seem to understand, but Brock knows he will catch up quickly, if he’s prompted the right way.

With the time he’s spent hating him, he knows how to work with the man.

“I don’t think I’ve met ya yet, or maybe I’m forgettin’?” He says, peering at the woman, who scoffs slightly, but still tries to hold a smile at them despite not offering her name just yet. Probably a good plan.

“I don’t think we have either, no. But you’re- ” 

“Brock Rumlow, the one and only. M’simultaneously on the guest list  _ and _ Jack’s _plus one_.” Brock shakes the woman’s outstretched hand and watches the smile fade from her face when she processes that. People are used to him saying outlandish things at times during post game interviews, especially when he’s pissed, so he pushes. “'Is fiance, if ya really need to know.”

“Oh.” The look of embarrassment and some kind of shock crosses her face, and Brock can’t hide his smirk anymore. His plan’s working, now all he needs is for Jack to figure it out instead of rooting himself on the floor like a goddamn fucking tree. 

“And how come this is the first  _ I’ve _ heard about it? The last thing you said about relationships, Mr. Rumlow, in your interview a few months ago with Cabbie, was that you were too young to attach yourself and settle down with someone.”

Brock can feel the moment Jack snaps out of it. He finally shifts in and unhooks his arm, instead resting his hand on the small of Brock’s back.

..And Brock wills his cheeks not to flush a deep shade of red.

“Keep it private, bad enough it is long distance.” Jack fills in. His English is miles better than when they first met; his Polish accent though, that lingers but it suits him. A small smile tugs at the corners of Jack’s lips and Brock feels himself relax. Success. “I think, need another ice water.”

“Let me get that for ya.” Brock announces. “You enjoy yerself.”

It’s his setup to leave, that he’s got enough story for Jack to have a defence and he’ll be left alone for the night by others and hopefully their agents don’t murder them in the morning. But then Jack does the unthinkable and moves his hand lower to squeeze his ass as he continues saying something to the woman. Brock’s mind immediately shuts down. 

He needs a moment. Or two. Or a few weeks, maybe the whole year, to recover from the shock.

He manages to detach himself as planned and soon he’s in the men’s bathroom, half stumbling to the bank of sinks to splash his face with some cool water and get rid of the heat he feels on his cheeks. Even after two passes, it doesn’t get any better and a few seconds later a rather pissed off looking Jack Rollins storms in.

His assumption that he’s pissed off only strengthens when he sees him lock the door.

Brock swallows audibly when Jack turns his way because he knows it was a gamble to do all that but for some reason he just  _ had _ to. Not that he’ll get the chance to even think fast enough to explain his reasoning the way he’s coming over.

But then Jack grabs his shoulders and Brock braces himself for..a kiss?

It’s not even a little one, it’s the hardest, hottest kiss Brock’s ever been given.

His brain stops working and when he starts to understand what’s happening again, he’s pinned against the bathroom counter, his hands buried in Jack’s hair.

“Wait, what’s all this- ” He tries against bruising lips. “God, do that again, yeah, _oh_..” Whatever Brock wants to say is conflicting with what he wants to do because just then Jack kisses a spot on his neck that he’s highly sensitive to and there’s stubble scraping against his skin. It leads to the same feeling as those memes of one of those funny moments where a computer blue screens. He wanted to know something, what was it? Oh, right. “‘Ey, stop fer a second. What’s ‘appenin’ ‘ere?”

..Not that he’s complaining. Jack’s mouth has been places Brock would rather not stop him from exploring, and his entire body is on board with it. 

“We’re magically engaged, are we not?” Jack answers so matter-of-factly. “Then it means, I can do this, yes?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.. _magically_ , but I mean if ya wanna keep the story straight..maybe ask me on a fuckin’ date first asshole.” He gestured at the lack of distance between them, Jack’s body pressing into him. “Not that I’m complainin’, but I was sure you were above bathroom fucks.”

“And I thought you hated me.” 

Brock scowled. “Because  _ you _ 'ate me!”

Jack looks at him, perplexed. “I don’t hate you, never hate you.” 

“What about the pranks then?” 

“Pranks were easiest way to keep your attention, so I did them back. And you are adorable when mad, Bucky share his snapper when you talk with him.” 

Brock’s brows furrowed in confusion. Snapper? “Oh, snapchat.”

“Yes.” Jack laughs a little, but then he seems to go kinda timid. “Do you want me to? Ask you on a date then?”

“Fuck, no. Not right now, later yes but right now- ” Brock rambles off, dragging Jack’s face back to his neck. He’s more than willing to have sex with Jack before any date to be honest, he’s not waiting around for that chance to crop up again later, especially when he can  _ feel _ what Rollins is packing through their light layers of clothing. But bathrooms are just too cheap for this with him, even nice set ups like this one.

“We stayed long enough and my ‘otel isn’t very far. Whadda ya think?”

_ Yes. _ Is all he gets out of Jack before he pulls off him and they fix each other's clothes and hair. It’s at that moment someone pulls at the door and they let themselves out, rushing past other players and various guests hand in hand. It’s kind of romantic in a way..well that is until Jack’s hand is back at his ass when they both let go to hail a cab.

Still, he’s the one that started all of this, he can’t complain.


End file.
